


You’re the butter to my bread, the cream to my coffee

by chronosaurus (kimnamjin)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Attempt at Humor, Banter, Changbin’s text name is ‘gyu’s momager’, Character Development, Chatting & Messaging, Crimes & Criminals, Dialogue Heavy, Eventual Happy Ending, Felix is briefly mentioned but doesnt appear, First Meetings, Humor, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Jisung doesnt know how to be a criminal, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Minor/background ChangLix, Strangers to Lovers, The adventures of lee “thicker than a bowl of oatmeal” minho, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, and han “butter boy” jisung, and i think that’s very important, awkward criminal!Jisung, bffs!MinBin, but...not really, eventual flirting, he’s actually a good boy tho, i missed posting minsung so..., it’s weird but maybe also cute? Idk!, text fic elements, thief!jisung, this fic is a wild ride ill tell u what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimnamjin/pseuds/chronosaurus
Summary: “Give me your wallet!” The bumbling criminal demanded, thrusting the unassuming, poor excuse for a blade right in Minho's face. The dull edge is poised mere inches from Minho, to the point where he can now clearly see the residual splotch of orange marmalade splattered on the side of the utensil.Minho didn't even bat an eyelash. He feigned the desire to yawn, in fact.“That's a butter knife.” Minho said matter-a-factly, as if merely recounting this week's weather forecast. “You're threatening me with a butter knife.”Or: Lee Minho is a broke, quirky college kid, who’s just trying to make a late-night convenience store run in peace. Key word?Broke.Enter Han Jisung: an awkward, clumsy would-be thief who attempted to rob Minho blind—with an arsenal of poorly chosen “weapons”, at that. Key word?Attempted.But everything is not always as it seems. Fate has a funny way of working, on a chilly autumn night.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Seo Changbin
Comments: 59
Kudos: 310





	You’re the butter to my bread, the cream to my coffee

**Author's Note:**

> now translated into Russian by Ashimu! https://ficbook.net/readfic/9909485

Minho's apartment building sure is…a building. It has 8 relatively stable floors, harsh artificial lighting more akin to that of a hospital than a place of residence, and an elevator bank with a suspicious dark red stain in the far left corner that everyone elects to ignore. 

****

It sure is a...physical place with four walls, a ceiling and a floor. 

****

It's a shit hole, if Minho were to be completely frank. But it could always be worse, right? Sure, it’s not in the most _glamorous_ part of town, but it's 4 easy blocks from his university, the faucets spew piping hot water on command, and he has yet to see any stray roaches scuttling about the floorboards. So Minho has become utterly desensitized to the drafty cracks in the plaster and the groaning squeal of the pipes, just like that.

****

The neon digits on his computer clock read _9:23 p.m.,_ which happens to be _the_ perfect time for a coffee run. Minho needs some caffeine hard wired into his brain, in order to keep himself conscious long enough to put an end to the paper that's been single handedly keeping him up for the last two days _straight_. 

****

His stupid professor in his stupid history of dance class assigned a stupid midterm on stupid classic Russian ballet theatre in the 1900s. It's stupid, if he didn't make it clear enough. Mikhail Baryshnikov? Rudolf Nureyev? They can all kiss Minho’s _ass_. 

****

But he _needs_ to do well on this essay, in order to keep his grades firmly planted in the highest percentage of students at his school. If he manages to get straight A’s again this semester, then it just puts him one step closer to weaseling his way to his final metamorphosis—becoming valedictorian. It’s a simple dream, really. A simple _goal._

****

He can picture it now: It's graduation day. The auditorium is packed to the gilles. It's time for the valedictorian’s speech; Minho gracefully ascends the stage, donning his cap and gown and looking like educational success personified. As handsome and delicate as ever, he shines under the spotlights. He leans into the mic, breath echoing throughout the cavernous room with each puff to ghost the surface. The entire attendance is waiting on bated breath. Minho opens his mouth, shattering the pin drop silence like glass. 

****

_“Fuck all of you. Except Changbin and Felix. You're on thin ice, Seungmin.”_

****

That's it. _That's_ his dream, plain and simple. It's what the general student body at his university deserve, for all the hushed whispers calling him _strange_ and _weird_ behind his back. Sure, he _is_ strange and weird—that's no well guarded secret—but at least say it to his _face!_

****

Lord, it all gets on Minho’s nerves so damn _bad._

****

So that’s why he needs to ace this goddamn paper. Which is why he’s craving coffee at close to 10 p.m. on a _Sunday._ He _needs_ coffee to get him through the night so he can finish his assignment and _breath_ again. And not some fancy, overpriced starbucks shit. _Hell_ no, Minho only drinks the _finest_ coffee in the city—convenience store coffee. Probably brewed at 4 a.m. the previous morning and more like lukewarm sludge than anything truly potable, but Minho _thrives_ off the stuff. Is it bad he finds himself craving the dull bitterness and acidic coating it leaves on his tongue more often than not? Probably. 

****

But it costs a crisp dollar for a 16 ounce tumbler of the stuff, so it gets his bank account’s hearty seal of approval. 

****

Honestly, he's surprised he hasn't died from drinking the coffee-adjacent concoction every other day. He needs to step up his game. Maybe start fishing discarded, half-drunk coffee cups from dumpsters, and try sucking those down like some sort of deranged raccoon. 

****

_God,_ he really is a “cryptid”, like Felix calls him so often. 

****

You see, Minho is notorious for being...a tad _kooky._ He's a bit wacky. A smidge zany. He's a weirdo—certified and self-possessed. Minho wouldn't have it any other way; he loves his personality, he loves being unabashedly _unique_ and _himself._ He adores being a beacon of chaotic color pulsating in a city so grey and humdrum it might as well be factory made. 

****

He's just as lucky to have a group of friends who love and accept him (and his laundry list of quirks) without a second thought. He loves his friends, almost as much as he loves convenience store coffee. Okay, okay. _Maybe_ he loves them a bit more than that low quality, caffeine-loaded brew. Which he still has an overpowering hankering for, he might add. 

****

The night isn't getting any younger, and neither is he.

****

Might as well go for a quick coffee run. Plus, he could do to give his noggin a brief respite from _paragraph, citation, paragraph, citation,_ repeat. 

****

Not to mention, his best friend is coming over tomorrow to work on a joint project, so he might as well stock up on some snacks to get them through the work. Yeah. It’s _time_ for a convenience store run, alright. 

****

Minho threw on a knit sweater to combat against the bone-chilling gnaw of the mid autumn night air, tugging on his pair of least-wrinkled black jeans and heading out the door of his hole-in-the-wall apartment. He burst through the smudged glass double doors of his building like a butterfly from a cocoon, his feet instantly piloting him on the now familiar journey to the 24 hour convenience store 5 blocks away. Actually, he could probably make the trek with his eyes _closed_. He's not sure he should be particularly proud of that. 

****

The air is brisk, and crisp in the way only the midpoint between fall and winter can be. Minho isn’t a huge fan of autumn—the weather is too _finicky._ It’s not warm enough to be the balmy throes of summer, but not frigid enough to be a snow filled December night. If you wear a cardigan you’re too hot, if you wear just a t-shirt you’re too cold. Autumn just can’t make up its mind, and Minho _hates_ it. 

****

A gust of chilled wind blew from the north, gently pushing against Minho’s back like the hands of a guiding touch. The breeze ruffled the leaves in the surrounding trees, the foliage rustling together in a chorus of crinkling and crunching. The once verdant green leaves are slowly transforming into their burnt umber and golden counterparts, becoming increasingly brittle and frail as the season trudges on. 

****

The city itself is a pallet of dreary grey skyscrapers, drab counterfeits copied and pasted at each intersection and illuminated with pinpricks of light on the upper floors. They look like cosmic columns, a pack of cylindrical galaxies alight with dingy excuses for stars. 

****

Minho purposefully forwent his headphones tonight, choosing rather to listen to the symphony that is the evening city streets. The far-off screech of tires grinding against a gravelly road, the distant din of a round of police sirens, the occasional hoot of an owl hidden in the canopy of a nearby tree. The near-silence is conducive to getting lost in one's thoughts, and Minho soon realized, with a small electric jolt, that he misses his friends. Like, _a lot_. And as if on cue, his phone then shimmied with a telltale buzz in his back pocket. Speak of the devil. 

****

It’s like he’s telepathic, Minho swears. 

****

He swiftly fished his phone out of his jeans, clicking the device on in one fluid movement. His face is instantly bathed in an artificial blue glow; a smile tugging onto his lips as he read the notification illuminating the screen. A smile bright enough to shed light onto the murky city streets. 

**_  
  
_ **

へ(❍∠❍)へ

**_  
  
_ **

**Gyu's momager:** howdy partner 

****

_Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho_ has come _online_

****

_(read at 9:33 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** Howdy pardner

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** pls don't let felix see u called me “partner” he knows where i live and will not hesitate to kill me in my sleep 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** on second thought, please tell him immediately

****

**Gyu’s momager:** -_- minho. cmon 

****

_(read at 9:34 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** 1\. you know felix literally can't hurt a fly. it's why we have so many fucking bugs in our dorm. 2. he knows we're legit partners for our astrophysics project 3. he loves you! you know he looks at you with those big anime boy eyes whenever you talk 

****

_(read at 9:34 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** thanks for the essay i'll have your grade in by monday 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** but how do you know felix doesn't want to off me so….gasp…..HE can be the star of the dance department 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** minho, YOU don't even wanna be the star of the dance department….

****

_(read at 9:34 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** u got me there ! but ur right tell felix i say hi and i love him (platonically) 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** will do even tho u have his number and can do that urself 

****

_(read at 9:34 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** anyways whatcha up to on this fine evening 

****

_(read ay 9:34 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** going on a convenience store run to stock up on snacks for when u come over tmmr and eat me out of house and home. also i need cofe 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** YES pls get me doritoes 

****

_(read at 9:35 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** oh my god it's **doritos you absolute buffoon 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** oh so u can misspell coffee to be funny, but i can't misspell doritos to be funny...i see how it is 

****

_(read at 9:35 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** honestly i thought that was you subtly admitting to being a foot guy ...ya know...doriTOES 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** can you stop being weird for literally 2 seconds 

****

_(read at 9:35 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** whatever you say seo “skinny penis” changbin 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** NOBODY CALLS ME THAT 

****

_(read at 9:35 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** I call you that 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** by virtue of U calling me that, nobody calls me that 

****

_(read at 9:36 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** valid have a nice day 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** anyways be safe ok? it's late, and you live in literally the shittiest part of town. which is saying smth bc this entire town is shitty 

****

_(read at 9:36 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** aww don't worry about me binnie~ i make this trek all the time, it's fine. plus if anyone messes me with i'll just use my thiccq thighs to crush their windpipe 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** id expect nothing less from lee “thicker than a bowl of oatmeal” minho 

****

_(read at 9:36 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** hey that was pretty good. i'm proud of u my fave leprechaun. 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** IM NOT A LEPRECHAUN JUST BC IM SHORT. IM KOREAN . WE’RE BOTH KOREAN 

****

_(read at 9:37 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** im sure there are korean leprechauns. in fact, i'm talking to one right now ! :) 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** the only reason i haven't killed u yet is bc i need u for the damn astrophysics project 

****

_(read at 9:37 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** but when it's over...i will find u and i will kill u 

****

_(read at 9:37 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** love how u say “i will find u” like u aren't coming over to my place in less than 24 hours 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** but i appreciate the sentiment 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** L

****

**Gyu’s momager:** LMAO DID U JUST GIVE URSELF THE L 

****

_(read at 9:37 p.m.)_

****

_Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho_ has gone _offline_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** minho???

****

_(delivered at 9:39 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** helloooo minho 

****

_(delivered at 9:41 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** minho? 

****

_(delivered at 9:42 p.m.)_

**_  
  
  
_ **

へ(❍∠❍)へ

**_  
  
  
_ **

All Minho wanted to do was reply to his friend’s text. That's _it._ He just wanted to be able to send a quick little “ _lol”._ Nothing special. No bells and whistles. But apparently, that wasn't in the cards for him tonight. 

****

Right as his finger was hovering above the little _“o”_ key️, a pair of hands seemingly materialized from the very shadows themselves and forced him into a nearby, dingy alleyway. Well, the sudden contact was more of a _suggestion_ of force. The sheer shock at the unknown hands batting at the front of his sweater was enough to make Minho stumble back into the alley on his own volition. And in his stupefaction, Minho accidentally pressed the send button prematurely. Poor, confused Changbin. 

At least Minho had enough wits about him to stuff his beloved phone safely into his jeans pocket, as he stumbled off the main street. 

****

But he is now face to...not-so-face with what he can only assume is a boy in his very early twenties. He says _assumes_ , because the majority of the kid’s face is _hidden_. A navy blue cap is shoved onto his head, yet some stray strands of dark chocolate hair still manage to peek through. The brim casts a pillar of inky shadow across his already veiled features.

****

Despite the darkness of night, a pair of wide-rimmed, opaque sunglasses are perched on the tall bridge of his nose, effectively obscuring the skin from the apples of his cheeks to his eyebrows. And last but certainly not least, the kid has a black fabric mask covering his mouth and nose. A black mask that is printed with a white _teddy bear_ snout on it. A little white nose and a curly, cartoonish, _smiling_ maw. Not exactly the most threatening choice, but Minho respects it. 

****

In fact, Minho now noticed how _small_ the kid is, in spite of him attempting to corner Minho into the brick facade. He's wearing an oversized black hoodie that seems to swallow him whole—like he somehow donned a black hole as a poncho. Ripped jeans hug his slim, lean legs; Minho couldn't help acknowledging how the boy’s converse are slightly pigeon-toed, and how his knobby knees seem to buckle inwards. His stance is more _dainty_ , than overtly intimidating. 

****

“G-give me your wallet, punk!” the presumed owner of the phantom hands cried, and Minho swears he heard the audible crackle of glass shattering between his ears. That must be his brain splintering. Or his sanity. Probably both, because oh _no._ This is not happening right now. There’s no _way_ this is legitimately happening right now. Minho feels slightly bad that he had to stifle a laugh at the expense of the poor “robber”, but—

****

“ _Excuse_ me? I was just casually minding my own business when _somebody_ rudely pushed me into this alley, and _I'm_ somehow the punk? I think you must be mistaken.” Minho casually observed, sending the boy an unimpressed glower. He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the exposed brick of one of the decrepit buildings sandwiching them in the alley. 

****

The thief sputtered at Minho’s flippant attitude, staggering back as if he had water thrown in his face. “W-wha—how about _now!”_ He quickly tried to backpedal to some form of intimidation, before getting himself on track again. He's about as scary as a rabid squirrel, let Minho attest. In fact, a rodent frothing at the mouth is _undoubtedly_ more intimidating than this guy. 

****

The would-be thief shoved a frantic hand in the large pocket on the front of his hoodie, clearly rooting around for something. And then he pulled out...a butter knife. 

****

He's now—seriously—brandishing a _butter knife_ at Minho. 

****

Ok, he's _obviously_ having some fierce caffeine withdrawals, because this _can't_ really be happening right now. 

****

Even in the lowlight seeping from the dingy street lights, the dull edge of the suggestion-of-a-knife still gleamed with a prick of silver light. If Minho looks close enough, he could even see a residual stain of what looks like…raspberry jelly, and a smear of orange marmalade on the blade. 

****

Well, at least the thief (or whoever the utensil belongs to) has good taste in breakfast condiments. 

****

“Give me your wallet!” The bumbling criminal demanded, thrusting the unassuming, poor excuse for a blade right in Minho's face. The dull edge is poised mere inches from Minho, to the point where he can now clearly see the dried splotch of orange marmalade splattered on the side of the utensil. 

****

Minho didn't even bat an eyelash. He feigned the desire to yawn, in fact. 

****

“That's a butter knife.” Minho said matter-a-factly, as if merely recounting this week's weather forecast. “You're threatening me with a butter knife.” 

****

The clumsily excuse for a criminal malfunctioned once again. _Error 404, your thief has stopped working. Please turn him off and on again to restart._

****

“Oh, that's not good enough for you?! Well, I also have _this!”_ The boy—more like _kid_ —stuffed his hand back in his seemingly infinitely cavernous hoodie pocket. Did Mary Poppins design the damn thing?! Just _how much_ can he store in there! 

****

A few slightly awkward seconds of Minho idly twiddling his thumbs later, and the thief pulled a _plastic_ knife from his hoodie pocket. He somehow thought serrated _plastic_ is more threatening than the rounded metal of a literal _butter knife._

****

He triumphantly wielded the plastic utensil like it's the fucking sword in the stone. He's holding it like it's goddamn _Excalibur._

****

Minho _really_ had to chomp down on his bottom lip to stifle his cackles this time around; he even felt tempted to take some surreptitious video to send to Changbin as an explanation for his abrupt exit from texting. You can't make this shit _up._

****

“Ok, _now_ give me all your money!” The criminal exclaimed, waggling the plastic knife in Minho’s face as a...warning? Of some sort…? Minho doesn’t fucking _know._

****

_Honey, you’ve got a big storm coming,_ Minho mused to himself with a roll of his eyes, pushing himself off the brick wall with such fluidity, it’s as if he is secretly made of a gust of air. The back of his sweater is vaguely damp from the particles of condensation nestled on the exposed brick, he observed with a prickle of annoyance running down his spine. Ugh. He has to go through all this _trouble_ for this clumsy ass thief? _Really?_ All he wanted was some damn coffee! That’s _it!_

****

You know what?

****

The kid wants his wallet? _Fine_. He’ll get it. 

****

Because Minho knows the _exact_ contents of his wallet, with scientific precision. It contains no more than 4 dollars, a paperclip, and a string of mysterious thread. Four dollars he _was_ going to put towards a 16 ounce cup of convenience store coffee, but plans change.

****

“You really want my wallet, dude? Well, here. Take it.” Minho quipped, coolly. Nonchalantly, despite so _easily_ giving in to this robber's demands. He fished a ratty paper envelope from his back jeans pocket, and virtually stuffed it into the knife-free hand of the robber. There. Is he happy now?

****

And did Minho swipe a paper envelope from the post office on campus a few months ago, and decide to use that as a wallet? Yes. Why? Because wallets are unnecessarily expensive and a simple envelope is just as good, thank you very much! 

****

The kid looked adequately taken aback by the tattered envelope thrust into his grasp, before carefully opening it and examining its contents. 

****

“This is 4 dollars and a paperclip.” The robber sounded...offended? Disappointed? Minho isn’t sure, but he’s virtually positive the kid is pouting behind those fly-like sunglasses and bear print mask. “Also...you use an envelope as a wallet?” 

****

“Damn it! I had a string in there too, what happened to it?!” Minho groused in mock-annoyance, smacking a hand on his knee as if the disappearance of the thread is the _real_ crime here. “And yeah, I do. Real ones are expensive as hell, and we can't _all_ resort to robbing people to get what we want. If that's what’s even happening here.” He grumbled, gesturing at the boy opposite him. 

****

He could feel the thief’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion beneath his ridiculously big sunglasses, before his shoulders slumped in defeat. He stuck his hand out, offering the well-worn envelope back to Minho. “I-I can’t take this from you, man.” He mumbled, taking it upon himself to gently place the paper slip back into Minho’s hand when he was met with nothing but suspicious silence. 

****

“Wow, what a saint.” Minho muttered under his breath, before sliding his makeshift wallet back into his jeans pocket—safe and sound. Not like he had much to lose anyways. He almost wishes the kid _did_ take his meager riches, just so _that_ could be the “grand prize” he managed to bring back to his gang. Or whoever he runs with. Whoever they are, they obviously aren’t very good at the whole _being delinquents_ thing, if this boy is anything to go off of. 

****

“Do you, uh, have anything more valuable I can take?” The robber innocently posed after a few more seconds of awkward silence, his feet absentmindedly kicking at some stray pebbles as he patiently awaits Minho’s answer. 

****

Minho barked out a laugh. This kid _really_ is something else. 

****

“If I do, I’m just supposed to...give it to you? Because you...want it?” Minho spoke carefully, as if trying to verbally sound out an impossible riddle. This stumbling thief certainly is an enigma personified. 

****

The robber shrugged. “Yeah. Basically.” 

****

Minho felt his eye twitch. “Well sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m as broke a college student as you can get. So no, I don’t have any random diamonds or jewels on me.” 

****

The robber at least had the decency to look as sheepish as his obscuring accessories allowed, hanging his head in what Minho can only assume is some form of shame. “Y-yeah, I kinda guessed after I saw your ‘wallet’.” He spoke softly, employing a pair of air quotes for emphasis. 

****

Minho couldn’t even be mad. 

****

In fact, he found himself viewing the clumsy excuse for a criminal as increasingly...endearing? 

****

“You’re new to this whole…’stealing from people’ thing, aren’t you.” Minho observed sagely, with a pair of air quotes of his own. He stepped forward to level the thief with a scrutinizing stare, quirking a knowing brow. It’s more of a statement than a question; the answer seems obvious enough. He just likes the idea of watching the kid squirm. 

****

Which is exactly what he got—the boy recoiled, tangibly scandalized as if _Minho_ is the one stealing from him. Although, he might as well be; he’s stealing the poor boy’s _dignity_. 

****

Minho swears steam would be billowing from the thief’s ears right about now, as he sputtered indignantly. In a move that surprised Minho himself, the kid stuffed his plastic knife back into his hoodie pocket, before shooting a hand up to his sunglasses and ripping them off his face in one fervent motion. In a _not_ so surprising turn of events, he immediately shoved the discarded sunglasses into the endless abyss that is his hoodie pocket. 

****

“Look!” The boy exclaimed, “ Are these not the eyes of a hardened criminal?!” The black fabric of his mask is scrunching bunching, as he wails with such conviction. He stumbled towards Minho, all while pointing up at his eyes. They’re bugging out his head, like a dead-fish. 

****

But that’s not what took Minho off guard; the kid’s eyes are downright _gorgeous._ They’re the same rich shade as melted milk chocolate, and impossibly warm and deep. They seem to glitter in the lowlight of the street lamps and diffused moonlight, like each millimeter of his irises are bejeweled with individual diamonds. 

****

They’re _certainly_ not the eyes of someone who’s committed a litany of crimes, that's for sure. 

****

“Dude, you have eyes like a disney animal.” Minho deadpanned, his lips pressed into an unamused line. 

****

The thief stared at him for one, two seconds. One more, just to collect his... _thoughts._

****

“W-what?! What does that even _mean?_ ” The would-be criminal shrieked in exasperation, his hands shooting up to claw at the tufts of chestnut locks poking out from beneath his cap. With his eyes free of their sunglass-screen, Minho can now see the fevered red blush creeping up from beneath the black fabric mask, painting the olive skin under his newly revealed peepers. 

****

Minho shrugged. “You have Bambi eyes. Or Thumper eyes. Actually, scratch that—you look like a fucking _chipmunk._ I'm getting robbed by a humanoid chipmunk—” 

****

“Aha! So I _am_ robbing you!” The boy eagerly hollered, triumphantly thrusting an accusatory finger in Minho's face. Well, _he_ sure changed his tune quick enough. And, he seemed to purposefully gloss over Minho's tirade over his striking appearance to animated forest critters just as much. 

****

“Is that really what’s going on now? I was just saying that to make you feel better about all... _this.”_ Minho drawled, vaguely gesturing between the two of them in the dank, damp alleyway. “Also, should you really be asking _me_ a question like that, butter boy?” 

****

The “criminal” threw his hands up in palpable irritation, a silent plea to whatever deities of mischief listening to just _end his suffering already._

****

“Butter boy?!” He parroted—more like shrieked—into the night air, his already agape eyes somehow popping even farther out of his head. 

****

Minho, however, merely rolled his own eyes once again at the kid’s dramatics. “Uh, _yeah._ What do you want me to call you? ‘ _Plastic knife kid’_? That doesn’t have the same ring to it, now does it.” Minho explained, as calm, cool and collected as ever. 

****

The boy _growled_. Like, a real growl. It should’ve sent shivers racing down Minho’s flesh, but all it did was make the knowing smirk on his lips widen. 

****

“Of _all_ the people in the goddamn city, _why_ did I settle upon a weirdo like _you_ as my first victim!” The thief snarled, his shoulders raising as he petulantly crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed, visible annoyance glossing over his irises. 

****

He’s throwing a tantrum. The boy trying to rob Minho is throwing a _hissy fit,_ right before his eyes. Minho did everything in his power not to coo. 

****

_I can’t believe this dude is keeping me from my coffee,_ Minho thought instead, mourning the multitude of caffeine packed cups he could’ve inhaled by now. 

****

“I didn’t mean to be a _downer_ on your new career path, man. But to be a good robber you kinda have to...you know... _not_ give the person you’re robbing their money _back.”_ Minho tried to placate the thief’s outburst as comfortingly as he could, suddenly taking pity on the poor boy _._ He stepped forward to place a soothing hand on the bumbling criminal’s shoulder, the boy’s lithe frame jolting at the sudden contact. 

****

The thief’s downcast head snapped up, meeting Minho with a wide-eyed stare. His gaze flew to Minho’s hand on his shoulder, and his expression—at least what is visible—softened considerably. His shoulders dropped, eyes now looking strikingly like a kicked puppy. Minho removed his hand in turn, like it had been burned. 

****

A car sputtered past, on the main road outside the alley that has become their second home. Something about the stilted grunt of the engine acted like an alarm clock, rousing Minho from his waking slumber. How long has he been here with this kid? It’s been a while, it must be. But he can’t find it within himself to want to _leave,_ all coffee-things considered. _Something_ about the poor excuse for a criminal is drawing Minho to him like a moth to a flame. It’s almost magnetic. 

****

He can complete his journey to get his long-desired drink later. The store _is_ open 24 hours, after all. 

****

The strange thief heaved a sigh after what felt like years of pregnant silence, the puff of air trembling and as thick as a wisp of smoke. “You’re right. I’m not cut out for this.” He mumbled, bringing a hand up to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck. 

****

Minho held his breath, for reasons unknown.

****

“Honestly? My friends said I’m not cool enough, so they dared me to rob someone to prove myself.” He continued, and Minho swears he felt each syllable quake in the air. As if every word is on the cusp of shattering after it left his mouth. 

****

Minho felt like he was punched in the gut. He felt all the wind get knocked out of him, like his lungs are two soaked towels wrung out for every drop of water. He felt his heart pound behind his ribs, a single beat forceful enough to shatter the bones. He started to worry his bottom lip between his teeth—this time to stifle a frown, not to subdue his amusement. 

****

It takes...a lot to admit to something like _that_ , under circumstances like _these_ . A lot of heart, and bravery. It takes a pretty _awesome_ person to come clean at the scene of the “crime”, and admit the error of their ways. 

****

It may sound a little hard to believe, but Minho can’t even fully _fault_ the kid for turning to these means in order to prove his worth to his “friends”. Everyone wants approval. Everyone wants to be considered _enough,_ to be validated by those they let in. Minho knows what that’s like. He _understands._

****

_I think you're cool enough as is,_ Minho wanted to say, but for once, his mouth betrayed him. Later. He can tell him _just_ how swell he is later.

****

“Those don’t sound like real friends to me.” Minho settled on instead, once the lump in his throat dissolved. 

****

The would-be robber nodded, the bunches of silky dark hair sprouting from beneath his hat shaking with the movement. He reached a hand up, and removed the bear-printed mask from where it was obscuring the bottom half of his face. Minho should have expected to see him shove it into his hoodie pocket. 

****

“Yeah, yeah.” The boy said, words gradually becoming clearer as the fabric is pulled away from his mouth. “I can’t _believe_ I let myself be manipulated by those assholes. This could've ended _really_ badly, if I didn't meet someone like you tonight.”

****

_Someone like you_

****

Now _that_ should’ve served to make Minho’s knees effectively weak _,_ but he's currently a little distracted by the sight before him to properly digest such a statement. His vision suddenly began to sway. He felt impossibly warm invisible hands cup his cheeks, coaxing a rosy flush to dye the skin. Did the sun somehow claw its way back into the sky, successfully knocking the moon right from the heavens and bathing the world in brilliance? 

****

Nope. They’re still drenched in the all-encompassing black of night. The _sunlight_ now blanketing Minho’s vision? That’s from the angelic face now wistfully gazing at him. 

****

The thief—the boy who tried to _rob Minho with a butter knife—_ is gorgeous. He’s nothing short of beautiful, no less than ravishing. He seems to glow with a golden light, like he himself is the very sun personified. 

****

Minho’s heart started to pound, as sweat prickled on his palms. _Oh shit he’s hot, shit, shit, shit—_

****

“And I’m _really_ sorry. About everything.” The now _unfathomably_ lovely robber conceded, his heart-shaped lips pulling into a firm line. 

****

Is he talking to Minho? He’s definitely talking to Minho. Too bad he can barely process the words over the droning ring in his ears. 

****

“O-oh, don’t worry about it?” _It’s not like you got away with anything anyways. Wait...get away?_

****

‘Honestly, you’re more cute, than anything.” Minho spluttered, the previously impenetrable sheet of ice keeping him cool finally succumbing to the desert-temperatures radiating off the beautiful robber. He tripped over his words like a drunkard, reduced to nothing more than a melted puddle of his remaining composure. 

****

The boy seemed to perk up at Minho’s little admission, his eyes gleaming a tad brighter, like lightning bugs took up residence in each chestnut iris. “You think I’m cute?” He asked with a sly grin, bunching his already rounded cheeks. 

****

Despite his brain feeling like the shambles of its former self, Minho managed to scoop up enough of his mindfulness to school his expression back into a suggestion of bashfulness. But he can’t _deny_ it. Might as well make this night even weirder, and just go with it. Yeah, he thinks the poor excuse for a thief is pretty damn adorable. 

****

So he voiced that very sentiment to the boy before him; he valiantly tried to will the ruby tinge off his cheeks, but he knows it stayed firmly in place. The kid seemed to consider his words, pacing back and forth as he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. But Minho can still see the coy smirk twitching onto his expression every couple seconds, before easing back down again. He can only imagine how the butter knife and sunglasses and mask and plastic knife and whatever _other_ objects stored in his cavernous hoodie pocket are jostling about right now. It’s probably akin to how Minho acutely feels his own heart thrashing within his chest. 

****

“So,” the boy started, “My name is Jisung. I think you’re pretty cute yourself.” 

****

_Jisung._ What a nice name. A nice name for a nice boy. It’s not very threatening—not very thief-esque. It fits him perfectly. 

****

But...oh. He just called Minho cute. What an interesting turn of events that _totally_ didn't make his already racing heart quicken to an even faster clip. 

****

“Minho. Lee Minho.” He happily supplied, slipping his phone from his pocket and holding it out to Jisung, once he pulled up the screen for inputting a new contact. 

****

Jisung barked out a hearty chuckle. “You _really_ wanna exchange numbers with the guy who tried to rob you?” Jisung mused with a devilish, heart-shaped grin. All the same, he still swiped Minho’s phone from his hand without batting an eye. 

****

“Yeah, I guess I have no sense of self preservation.” Minho confessed with a mock pout. After a few clicks Jisung handed the phone back to Minho, a new number saved as _Butter Boy_ now illuminating the screen. Minho had to fight back the giggles bubbling up in his chest. 

****

“Or,” Jisung continued, coupled with a waggle of his brows, “You could say I stole...your heart?” 

****

For the umpteenth time that evening, Minho rolled his eyes. His insatiable desire for coffee is fully pushed from his head; replaced by hypnotizing visions of glimmering butter knives, and a pair of honey-brown eyes that twinkle brighter than the Milky Way. 

**_  
  
  
_ **

へ(❍∠❍)へ

**_  
  
  
  
_ **

_Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho_ has come _online_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** CHANGBIN YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENE D TO ME TONIGHT 

****

_Gyu’s momager_ has come _online_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** whatever it is better be good for you to have left me on read all these hours >:(!!! 

****

_(read at 11:01 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** IT IS TRUST ME AJSJHSJDDK

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** so i was just making my way to the convenience store, like u do, when SUDDENLY this KID tried to ROB me but i only had FOUR DOLLARS so he gave up but it turns out he’s SUPER HOT so now we’re going on a date this Tuesday 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** sorry for capitalizing every other word I’m still excited 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** minho

****

_(read at 11:03 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** only YOU can go out for a late night coffee run, almost get robbed, but then end up with the guys number and a date in two days. Little minho things 

****

_(read at 11:03 p.m.)_

****

**Gyu’s momager:** I’m happy for u tho!!! Just dont leave me on read for that long...i got………….worried™

****

_(read at 11:03 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** awww I’m sorry binnie uwu it wont happen again uwu ill try not get robbed by anymore hot guys uwu 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** thank u...also did u eventually make it to the store 

****

_(read at 11:04 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** ugh yes i did at like ass o’clock at night….i didnt even get any coffee bc i was too Exhausted lmao. Also I’m so glad those are ur priorities 

****

**Gyu’s momager:** hell yeah eating snacks u bought w ur money is my priority !! Plus i already know ur safe with a new boyf or whatever. ill see u tmmr u big dummy gnight 

****

_(read at 11:05 p.m.)_

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** HES NOT MY BOYF!! Yet. For now hes my….robf…..my Robber Friend. 

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** but we actually had a heart 2 heart and he’s not gonna rob anyone anymore so :’) he seems like a really great guy, who was just peer pressured into doing smth stupid, u know? Idk it’s a long story, but u can trust him! Anyways!! yeah goodnight binnie sorry for worrying you

****

**Lee “the entire bee movie script” minho:** i love u, see you tmmr!

****

**Gyu’s momager:** love you too <3

****

_Gyu’s momager_ has gone _offline_

****

_(read at 11:06 p.m.)_

**_  
  
  
_ **

へ(❍∠❍)へ

**  
  
  
**

**Butter Boy:** hi minho 

****

_(read at 11:12 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** hi jisung 

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** thanks for saving my number with this name btw. Very flattering. 

****

**Butter Boy:** only the best for u my love 

****

_(read at 11:13 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** wow, we’re moving fast huh 

****

**Butter Boy:** is that a problem?

****

_(read at 11:13 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** not at all, my dear 

****

**Butter Boy:** uwu where are u taking us on our date baby cakes 

****

_(read at 11:14 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** hmm let me think about that one, honey dearest 

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** how about the 24 hour convenience store near the uni campus? They have the best coffee, trust me

****

**Butter Boy:** thats a little...strange for a first date isn’t it?

****

_(read at 11:15 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** well the way we met was a bit strange, wasn’t it?

****

**Butter Boy:** you got me there! 

****

_(read at 11:15 p.m.)_

****

**Butter Boy:** the date sounds perfect. 

_(read at 11:15 p.m.)_

****

**Butter Boy:** i cant wait to get to know you as like...normal people 

****

_(read at 11:16 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** i cant wait either! I’m really glad i met you, jisung 

****

**Butter Boy:** I’m really glad i met you too. I’m so grateful to have picked u as my first “victim” lmao

****

_(read at 11:16 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** thats sweet! goodnight Jisung~ Sleep well

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** dream of me

****

**Butter Boy:** that shouldn’t be too hard

****

_(read at 11:17 p.m.)_

****

**Butter Boy:** but wait, minho!

****

_(read at 11:17 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** yeah? 

****

**Butter Boy:** I’m...really sorry again. For everything. I was acting like an asshole 

****

_(read at 11:17 p.m.)_

****

**Butter Boy:** and I’m sorry i called you a weirdo :( i hope i didnt hurt your feelings

****

_(read at 11:17 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** it’s ok jisung, really! I understand what it’s like to do stupid stuff for approval. I mean...not Robbing People stupid, but u know what i mean. Plus i actually am i weirdo n u will find that out very soon Trust Me

****

**Butter Boy:** is it bad I’m excited?

****

_(read at 11:18 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** yes

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** last thing jisung: 

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** promise me no more bad stuff between now and our date, ok? Or just...in general? I think ur super cool as it is, so pls dont change urself for those doodoo heads >:(

****

**Butter Boy:** omg I’m gonna cry ;; but I promise!! My life of crime is over! 

****

**Butter Boy:** and they are Not my friends anymore, for the record uwu 

****

_(read at 11:18 p.m.)_

****

**Hot guy jisung tried to rob:** thats what i like to hear! Okie nighty night <3

****

_Hot guy jisung tried to rob_ has gone _offline_

****

**Butter Boy:** goodnight <3

****

_(delivered at 11:18 p.m.)_

****

_Butter Boy_ has gone _offline_

**Author's Note:**

> *wafts this fic towards me* hmm...is that...vintage chronosaurus i smell?? yeah, bc this is another fic i wrote a heckin long time ago ^^;;  
> And uh minho using an envelope as a wallet is actually based off one of my irl bffs who does in fact use an old envelope as a wallet….u find inspiration everywhere ! 
> 
> welp, i hope this wasn't too deviant from my current style, and that u enjoyed!! kudos if u did would rlly mean a lot <3 Seungmin bday fic coming this weekend bc i want to tweak it some more hhhhh >< and!! #backdoor1stwin!!! I’m so happy and proud asjskjd what a time to be aLIVE I LOVE SKZ


End file.
